


Predacon Trio Ficlets

by kanashimibeast



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Rating may go up in later chapters, Since y'all aren't writing any of this ship I guess it's up to me, for now just enjoy the fluffy dragons, someone's gotta do things for this adorable threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6206593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanashimibeast/pseuds/kanashimibeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets about Predaking, Darksteel, and Skylynx, because I can never get enough of my Predacon babies. And because no one else seems to be writing about them.</p>
<p>Individual summaries at the beginning of each chapter. Rating may go up in later chapters, but for now it's just shameless fluff. Also open for requests with this trio, if you have any prompts you want to see feel free to leave them in the comments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Predaking wants to enjoy a nice nap in the sun, but he didn't count on Darksteel and Skylynx making that difficult for him.

Predaking was sunning himself on Darkmount when the boys returned from a flight. He heard them arrive before he saw them, the rustle of wings in the warm breeze soon followed by the scrape of talons on metal when they landed. They were not graceful in their landing. All Predacons lacked a certain degree of elegance when making the transition from air to land, as their size and weight made gentle landings difficult. It was not uncommon for their landings to make the ground jump from impact.

  
Of course, Predaking could tell from the rumble of their impacts, one right after the other, that Darksteel and Skylynx had not even attempted to be graceful. He didn’t have to open his optics to know their landing was just short of a crash.

  
He opened an optic to look at them just in time to see them begin fighting. Nothing serious of course, he could tell their actions lacked true animosity. No doubt another bout of wrestling between brothers. The claw marks and smudges of soot and energon on their plating indicated that they’d done quite a bit of that while they were out.

  
He watched as Skylynx leapt on Darksteel with a snarl and tried to pin him to the ground. Darksteel’s hind leg kicked out and caught Skylynx in the chest just in time to send him sprawling backwards into a column. The impact resulted in a loud crash and the room shaking, and Predaking realized that rest was a futile endeavor.

  
The boys didn’t notice as he stood, wings flicking out in annoyance as he made his way over to the boys. Darksteel was too busy trying to bite Skylynx’s wings, and Skylynx too busy trying to ensure his brother couldn’t reach them. They rolled away from the column, still kicking and trying to bite at each other in between snarls and growls.

  
“Enough.” Predaking shoved between them, pressing a forelimb between their wings to pin them to the floor so they could not move. Although he had no hesitation in asserting himself, his voice lacked any anger. Annoyance, maybe, but Predaking had long since gotten used to their antics. “Whatever your quarrel is, take it somewhere where I am not trying to rest.”

  
Two pairs of glowing golden optics flicked back to look at at him, and he saw their postures droop in submission. “Sorry ‘King,” said Skylynx, glancing away in what seemed to be embarassment. “Didn’t realize you were trying to sleep.”

  
“And we’re not really quarreling, ‘s just some playfighting and all…”

  
“It was until you called me a--”

  
“Quiet.” Predaking cut them off before an argument could start. “That is not the issue here. Next time, take better notice of your surroundings and what you might be disrupting before you begin fighting, understood?”

  
The brothers nodded. “Yes, your majesty,” Skylynx said. “We won’t do it again.”

  
Darksteel shifted under Predaking’s weight, trying to free himself. “We’ll, uh, go somewhere else to finish this up.”

  
“You can resume your fight later.” Predaking settled down between them, draping a wing over each brother to keep them close. He felt their plating against his, warm with the fire that coursed through their veins alongside energon, and he let out a content rumble. “The day is too pleasant to enjoy alone, so you can at least make it up to me by allowing your king to rest with his subjects.”

  
“...Yes, your Majesty.” The brothers relaxed when they realized they weren’t going to be punished, and he felt them curl even closer under his wings. They purred and allowed the sound to wash over him, sending a gentle rumble through his plating. His subjects were still young and unruly, but he would gladly deal with their quarrels if it meant also having moments like these.

  
So with another content rumble he stretched out and rested his helm on his forelimbs, basking in the warmth of the sun above him and the devoted subjects at his side.


	2. Fussiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darksteel and Skylynx discover a side of Predaking they didn't expect, but learn to appreciate.

There were things that Skylynx and Darksteel had expected from their king right from the start. He was proud and imposing, as befitting any Predacon. He was ambitious and regal, as befitting a king. And he was devoted and fiercely protective, as befitting of one who was among the last of his race and seen his brethren destroyed before his eyes.

But of all the things they expected Predaking to be, _fussy_ was not one of them.

When they claimed Darkmount as their headquarters the first thing Predaking did was ensure the place was cleaned and restored from top to bottom. “Royalty should not have to live in inadequate conditions when they can do better,” he said, already busy at work removing all traces of Starscream’s remains from the throne. “Our race is proud and mighty, and we deserve a home that reflects that.”

When they made the mistake of saying that it wasn’t necessary, as they had lived in far worse conditions when they were under Shockwave and Starscream’s employ, Predaking’s rage on their behalf was something to behold. Somehow they managed to creep away while he was in the middle of a long, fiery speech about how they as Predacons deserved better and how, as their king, he would ensure that no one would ever treat them so poorly again. When they came back he repeated his statement about them deserving better and sent them to survey the rest of Darkmount so they could appraise its condition.

They had expected that his insistence on good living conditions would be the end of his fussiness, but he soon proved them wrong. He was adamant that they only had the best energon possible and was quick to scold the boys if they came back with something subpar. He ordered that they continue to expand and restore Darkmount even after they had cleaned it and cleared out the rust of age. Darksteel and Skylynx learned not to complain, and although they didn’t want to admit it, they liked how Predaking insisted on the best for them. It was far better treatment than they had gotten with Shockwave and Starscream.

What still perplexed them was Predaking’s frequent grooming.

At least twice a day they caught him in his beast mode, grooming himself like a cat even if he didn’t appear dirty to them. When they asked he said a king needed to always look his best.

“But you’re already magnificent,” Darksteel said. “Even without grooming.”

That had Predaking laugh, a sound that rumbled in his chest as he pulled the brothers close. “We all are,” he said, voice ringing with pride as his claws traced gentle patterns on their plating. “But a little grooming to ensure we stay that way never hurts.”

Eventually they gave up trying to understand Predaking’s fixation on looking his best. “Maybe he picked it up from that red weirdo who switched sides to the autobots,” Darksteel said, and Lynx just shrugged in response.

So when they returned from an outing with a splotchy coating of grime and soot on their plating, Predaking’s reaction was not surprising.

“What _happened_ to you?” Predaking circled them when they returned, optics glancing over them and taking in their appearance with disapproval. “Did you wrestle in a tar pit?”

Skylynx grumbled and tried to shake soot off his wings. “Wasn’t our fault.”

“Yeah, we were just poking around some old buildings for energon when a control panel blew up in our faces,” Steel said. “Must’ve been faulty wiring.”

“I see.” Predaking sighed. “Can’t be helped, then. Come here.”

He had transformed and pulled them under his wings before the brothers had time to react or protest. His attention shifted to Darksteel first, craning his neck so he could lap at his helm with long, slow strokes of his tongue. Darksteel was unable to bite back a yelp. “M-my king…?”

Predaking just let out a rumbling noise and went back to grooming him, cleaning every inch of plating available to him with his glossa. Darksteel couldn’t help but shiver when he felt it slide around ridges and dip in between seams, seeking out every fleck of dirt to banish it. It felt weird, but not in an unwelcome way. Any attention from Predaking was always welcome.

Slowly he relaxed, resting against Predaking’s side and listening as his king let out low, rumbling purrs while he groomed him. When he was done he nuzzled Darksteel’s helm before turning his attention to Skylynx to give him the same treatment. From the way Skylynx relaxed and started purring it was obvious that he enjoyed the attention as much as Darksteel.

Predaking didn’t stop until both of their plating shone like it had been freshly polished, and then he lifted his wings so the brothers could free themselves from his grip if they wished. “There, now you look as Predacons should.”

They somehow managed to get out thank yous as they moved out from under his wings, although it was with reluctance that the left his sides. “I didn’t know grooming felt that good,” Skylynx whispered to Darksteel. “No wonder he does it all the time.”

Darksteel nodded. “Maybe we should come back dirty from missions more often.”

“ _Or_ you could simply ask me if you want to be groomed.” Predaking’s voice was rich was amusement as he cut through their conversation. “Provided you are willing to return the favor sometime.”

The boys winced when they realized Predaking had overheard them, but his words made them brighten. “Of course, your majesty,” Skylynx said. “We’d be honored to.”

“Good.” Predaking rumbled in approval and stretched out to sun himself. “Then I shall be looking forward to it.”


	3. Size

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are downsides to Predaking's size, especially when the halls of Darkmount aren't mean to accommodate him.

Darksteel and Skylynx were in one of Darkmount’s lower levels when Predaking strode in, tall and regal as heavy pedefalls announced his presence. At least, it would have been regal had the lower levels of Darkmount been designed with a mech of his stature in mind. The reality was that Predaking banged his helm on the doorway on his way in with a loud clang that ruined all pretense of regality.

Predaking stumbled, hissing out a low curse as he glared at the offending doorway. Darksteel tried to muffle a snicker and was met with a fierce glower that made him shrink back and try to hide between Skylynx. Skylynx, however, was not about to let himself be a shield to Predaking’s annoyance and tried to step aside, only for Darksteel to try ducking behind him again. The result was a comical dance in which Lynx shifted all around the room and Darksteel tailed him at every step.

“Enough,” said Predaking, his voice echoing throughout the room and making the boys freeze midstep. “Stop fooling around, I have a job for you.”

The boys nodded, exchanging a look of relief when they realized that Predaking wasn’t going to focus on the door incident. If anything he seemed determined to forget it ever happened, stepping through the doorway and making sure to lower his helm enough that it didn’t make contact this time. Once he was in the room he drew himself back up to his full height, claws flicking in what the brothers knew was mild irritation, but aside from that he was making a concerted effort to look imposing. His optics fixed on them in a look that seemed to say  _ bring up the incident and you will regret it. _

They were more than happy to let the incident slide. “So,” said Darksteel, “what’s the job?”

“Simple scouting today, Darksteel.” Predaking’s massive pauldrons shifted down a little as he relaxed, already putting the incident behind him. “There’s been increased Autobot activity around the Sea of Rust, I want you to do a patrol near the area to check up on things. Do  _ not _ instigate anything, understood?”

Darksteel’s shoulders slumped in disappointment and he opened his mouth to complain, but Skylynx elbowed him before he could. “Yes, your majesty,” he said, nodding. “We’ll keep our distance.”

“Good.” Predaking nodded in satisfaction and turned to go. “I’ll leave you to it. And remember, Darksteel,  _ no _ incidents.”

Darksteel grumbled under his breath but nodded. “Yes sir.”

“I’ll hold you to that--” Predaking was cut off by a loud clang as his helm once again made contact with the doorway, stepping back and snarling out a curse. He threw a glance over his shoulder and quickly regained his composure, straightening and letting out a huff. “...This never happened.”

Darskteel and Skylynx exchanged a glance, then turned back to Predaking and nodded. “What never happened?”

“Good.” Predaking huffed again and left the room, making sure to duck his helm to avoid the doorway as he exited. They heard his pedesteps moving away, the sound growing fainter and fainter as he stalked off.

When he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear them, Darksteel looked over at Skylynx. “How long do you think it will be before he makes us renovate the doorways?”

Skylynx opened his mouth to speak, only for the two of them to hear another loud clang, accompanied by an angry roar followed by a string of curses.

“...I give it a few cycles at most,” said Skylynx.


End file.
